Maya Hoover/The Mossy Log
During the college applications cycle, the need to consider prestige when choosing a school hangs over prospective undergraduates. Big-name Ivy League schools hold more weight in the eyes of employers, and have both the resources and alumni network to support their status. The weight of a school’s name is strikingly evident in U.S. political institutions — in 2020, over 40 members of Congress were Harvard alums. Though one may credit this to the quality of education received, there is an undeniable power that exists when someone is able to write “Graduate of Yale” on their resume.
Despite this, many students choose not to attend or even not to apply to prestigious universities such as Harvard or Yale. During my college application and decision process, my choice to attend Lewis & Clark hinged on its size and cost. For many others, financial barriers and a desire to gain a more balanced education guided their choice. Compounding this, students from the top 1% are over twice as likely to be admitted to Ivy-plus colleges — a term referring to the main ivy league schools and a few key private universities – than their equally qualified middle-class peers, reflecting inequality in the admissions process.
This inequality extends beyond the student body to the respective endowments of those colleges. Research has shown that the top 20% of universities in the United States hold 80% of the total university endowment wealth, all while the bottom 20% have around 1%. Those prestigious, high-endowment institutions funnel resources into a student body which is often wealthy to begin with, while lower-income students (who are more likely to attend poorer institutions) are left in the dust. This effect only compounds — schools like Cornell or Columbia, founded and supported by major stockholders or historical royal charters, hold a secure method of funding that is maintained by modern alums and endowments. The public-facing nature of these schools and their ability to boost credibility and image through reputation alone acts as a buffer, causing a continual stream of wealth to filter through the schools.
By contrast, LC and other smaller private institutions rely heavily on comparatively small endowments, which generate limited annual payouts and require continued contributions to sustain long-term value. As a freshman this year, I have stepped into a school plagued by financial woes and desperate restructuring initiatives. As an institution, LC is by no means the least prestigious around. However, the financial issues on campus reflect the ways that waning prestige, combined with lawsuits and renovations, have limited the college’s economic flexibility.
As a student who hopes to attend graduate school and participate in research programs, the lack of reliable funding is worrying to say the least. Access to competitive resources was one of the most important things to me in choosing a private college education, and the contrast between smaller, less-renowned private schools’ opportunities and those of more prestigious schools is distinct. Notably, Reed’s 2025 endowment consisted of $885 million, over double the value of LC’s endowment, which sat at $325.3 million as of October 2025.
None of this is to say that I am genuinely disappointed that I chose to go to LC. There are many things about this school that present unique opportunities, not the least of which being undergraduate access to one-on-one mentorship through small class sizes, hands-on learning programs such as the Medieval Manuscripts course, as well as the stellar study abroad programs. However, I am now intimately aware of what I lost by choosing a school based on social and environmental factors rather than financial capability. Prestige, no matter how much you want to deny it, is one of the driving forces behind modern academia. Without this public support and acknowledgement, both faculty and students relying on school funding to support their research and education may be left adrift.
Ultimately, you must make a decision. Is it truly important to consider social environment or stress levels, when choosing a niche school could lead to fewer career options? I would argue that in the long-term view, it is not. Four years amounts to little in the face of a decades-long career. While you can still take advantage of the opportunities here and climb your way up the ladder, you will be starting at a lower rung than a Reedie with a fully-funded research position to their name. I would say choose wisely, but you have already chosen.
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